It was Saturday. My husband and I had been working all day on house renovations. He mentioned going out on a "date night"--sans children. I didn't even let him finish the sentence before I jumped off the ladder and headed into the house for some hygiene.

Date night. Wow! I reminisced about the days before marriage getting ready for my guy. I was giddy with anticipation. I filled the bath tub, sprinkling some scented salts into the water. I blocked out the screams of "MOMMMMMMMMMMMM!" that echoed downstairs below me.

My legs and underarms were lathered. Geez, how long had it been anyway since I last held a razor in my hand? And is that hair on my toes? Not any longer...

I used oils and scrubs that had sat unopened for far too long. The decadent fragrances filled the air as my body was transformed.

Now that I was clean and sweet smelling I went to my closet. What's a girl to wear? I first tried on a cute, V-neck, sleeveless top--a recent garage sale find. I put it on and did the "pledge of allegiance" to make sure I didn't show too much. Hey, I'm a good Catholic girl--what can I say. Uh, my girls were saluting too much, so I added a tank top which wasn't an attractive addition under the spandex.

Back to the drawing board as my pile of try ons was growing larger. At least that part of "date night" hadn't changed at all. I finally found an outfit that I liked, a tan tank top with delicate beads at the neckline and a green shrug that went over the top. I settled on a pair of capris pants that completed the ensemble. I borrowed my daughter's big hoop earrings, added a "funky bracelet" that my girlfriend had recently made me for my birthday, a necklace that matched perfectly and the final detail, an anklet bracelet.

Hair and make-up done, perfumed in all the right spots, I was ready! I kicked aside my crumpled sweats and t-shirt that were piled on the bathroom floor. I looked one last time in the mirror. The reflection before me no longer showed a mother of six. I was woman--hear me roar!

Fast Forward:

I joined my husband in the vehicle. He was attired in his best Cleveland Browns t-shirt. We went to Sears and ordered a new oven. We went to Menards. My husband enquired about places to eat...I immediately shot down his suggestions. Was I being unreasonable to want a restaurant that didn't have a clown as a spokesperson or wrap their food in paper to go?

We ate at Asian Buffet.

We were too tired to make a Wal-Mart stop and we came home. I removed my hip, high-heeled sandals and rubbed my aching, painted pink piggies.

Mommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm's home! Echoed through the house.

My husband sat on the couch, moved his newspaper briefly away from his face and said, "Hey, remember what every date night is supposed to end with..." wink, wink.

Sure, that is the one thing he remembered from our marriage class.

I went upstairs, removed my accessories and my "going out" outfit which was quickly replaced with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I smiled, for a little while I was someone else...

The next time guess who is planning the date night?

Tags: funny, date night, marriage, kids

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